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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22979671">Just Say It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouseforaname/pseuds/nouseforaname'>nouseforaname</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Recovery Mode [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mr. Robot (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:33:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22979671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouseforaname/pseuds/nouseforaname</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom and Darlene aren't speaking to each other and they're not telling anyone why.</p><p>But have no fear - Elliot's on the case.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darlene Alderson/Dominique DiPierro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Recovery Mode [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Mediator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em>I know. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I’m not supposed to be talking to you. </em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>That’s what </em>he <em>used to do, and I’m not him. At least not anymore - or maybe I still am. I’m not really sure. I’m still trying to figure out how this all works.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>I promised Krista I’d work on that - and I am. You know I am. Even though we don’t talk as often as we used to, I’m sure you’ve been watching me lately. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>So don’t think I’m not, because I am.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>It’s just that…I just </em>have<em> to tell someone or I’m going to fucking explode - or spontaneously combust. Whichever comes first. </em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>I need to get this off my chest because it’s killing me right now and Darlene’s heard enough of it. She’ll crucify me if I complain to her one more time.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Okay, here we go.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>This heatwave is a fucking plague and it's infecting the entire city. I don't understand how those climate change denier idiots think this shit doesn't exist when it's barely nine in the goddamn morning and it feels like the sun is two inches away from my fucking face. I'm going to get a sunburn just by standing here.</em>
</p><p class="p1">Elliot runs the back of his hand against his forehead as he makes the short trek from the subway station to FBI headquarters. When he finally steps inside and feels the rush of cool air pillowing his face, he nearly closes his eyes in ecstasy.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Air conditioning has to be one of the greatest inventions known to man.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He scans his badge and walks through the turnstile, absentmindedly tugging the strap of his messenger bag as he makes his way towards the elevators. He presses the button for his floor, but just as the doors slide to a close a hand sticks inside, forcing them to open back up - and in steps Dom. She's out of breath, almost like she ran all the way to work, and her vibrant red hair is messier than usual. Her cheeks are also flushed pink, probably from all the running she just did, and from the insane heat.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She looks stressed. The higher ups must still be giving her shit for that impromptu trip to Europe. </em>
</p><p class="p1">She must've noticed he was staring -<em> shit, she caught me staring - </em>because she finally turns to him and gives him a curt nod, but interestingly enough she doesn't make eye contact. "Hey." She immediately turns to face the doors again, her eyes pointed upwards as she watches the floor counter slowly make its way up.</p><p class="p1">"Hey." He greets back, his brow furrowing with confusion.</p><p class="p1"><em>That's weird. No </em>Any plans last night <em>or </em>Do anything special?<em> Not that I'm expecting her to ask - friendships aren't transactional like that - but it just feels...off. We've been running into each other every morning since she came back to work a month ago and she always asks how my night went. There's a break in the pattern. Something must be up.</em></p><p class="p1">He mimics her movements, staring up at the counter and folding his hands in front of him.</p><p class="p1"><em>You and I both know that I'm not a fan of small talk, but this just doesn't feel right. Fuck, for once in my life I might actually </em>hate<em> the silence. </em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Dom and I never really had a reason to talk before but we've gotten to know each other pretty well since she came back from her trip. Turns out we actually have a few things in common: We both have social anxiety, we're dog lovers, we have siblings who don't seem to understand the concept of personal space, and I'm sure there's more but this is bugging me so much I can't really think about anything else. </em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Also, she’s probably the only person in the world who didn’t track me and Darlene’s story when it was all over the news. She wasn’t even 100 percent sure we were alive until she came back to the States. She knew about Washington Township and that I most likely had something to do with it, but I’m still trying to figure out how she couldn’t have known what happened to me or Darlene afterward. Not to sound like a narcissist or anything, but our faces - well, mine more than Darlene’s - were plastered on </em>every<em> screen for at least a month after all of that shit went down. You couldn’t Google </em>Washington Township, Dark Army, Whiterose, <em>or </em>fsociety <em>without having our names pop up next to them. She told me she tried her best to avoid anything digital while she was on vacation, which I totally get, but still. She must’ve jumped through some serious hoops to avoid any sort of major news coverage for three whole months, and that’s admirable as hell. </em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>She’s cool, though; she understands my need to slip through the cracks, to not be the centre of attention. She loves slinking into the background just as much as I do. It’s nice to know someone who understands that. Being a working prisoner for the FBI means I can't really go anywhere outside of work unless I get clearance for it, so she and Darlene are the only people I see regularly. This is going to sound so lame, but I forgot how nice it was to have a friend, and I'd very much like to keep this one. I have to get to the bottom of this.</em>
</p><p class="p1">Before Elliot has the chance to speak up, the doors open and Dom power walks all the way to the opposite end of the large room, where her office is. </p><p class="p1"><em>Wow, no </em>Have a good one,<em> or even a nod. Don't worry, I'm not as offended as I sound. It's just...this is so weird. There's something wrong here. </em><b></b></p><p class="p1">Lucky for him, his desk is situated so that he has a direct view of her office when her door's open. When he takes a seat, he strategically adjusts his monitor so that he can peer into her room without making it look obvious. He leans back in his chair as he waits for his computer to boot up, his eyes shifting towards Dom's open door. She appears to be pacing back and forth in front of her desk; her hair is hiding her face so he can't see her expression but her arms are crossed and she seems to be walking very quickly.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Zoochosis is the end result of trapping an animal in an unnatural habitat. When put in an environment where it can't satisfy its natural instincts and urges, an animal will act out in fucked up ways to relieve them - compulsive biting, hair plucking, chronic masturbation.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Pacing.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Okay, maybe I'm being a little dramatic. Office employees are the very definition of caged animals but it'll take a lot more than a nine to five and the vague promise of a financially secure retirement to break someone like Dom. She's not going insane, but something is obviously bothering her. Was she like this last week? Fuck, my memory is so bad. I don't even remember what I did on the weekend.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He tries to get some work done, but it's hard to concentrate when he can spot Dom out of the corner of his eye. She'll pop into view for a second, then walk back and disappear, only to reappear seconds later. She's been pacing for at least ten minutes now, and it's starting to make him nervous. </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Maybe I should talk to her, but this also might be something she wants to keep to herself. I mean, if she needed help, she would've asked by now, right? Maybe that's why she didn't say anything earlier - it's her way of saying that it's none of my business. So that means I should just stay put...I think.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He scratches his head, pretending to look engrossed in the report he currently has open, but <em>all I can think about is what's bothering her.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Maybe she's just working up the courage to talk about it. It might be something personal, and we all know how scary it can be to open up to someone about personal shit. She also might just be waiting until lunch to tell me - we haven't eaten out together in awhile anyways. Yeah...maybe that's it. I'll just sit tight for the next three hours and then all will be answered.</em>
</p><p class="p1">But then noon hits, and Dom isn't at his desk. She closed her door sometime after ten, most likely because more people are in the office by then and she wants to nervously pace in private. She usually swings by around this time to ask him to lunch, and she hasn't.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Maybe she's just really busy, or she's on an important call.</em>
</p><p class="p1">But as the time continues to pass he grows more and more doubtful. By one, he gives up, and decides to take a late lunch.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Okay...maybe she'll tell me later.</em>
</p><p class="p1">Three o'clock eventually comes and Dom's door is still closed. </p><p class="p1">
  <em>She hasn't left her office all day. She can't be okay in there all by herself. Maybe I should ask Darlene if she knows what's up. </em>
</p><p class="p1">He pulls out his phone, but his instincts are telling him that's a bad idea for some reason, so he slips it back in his pocket.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Fuck. Why can't I just ask? Am I overthinking this? Am I worrying over nothing? </em>
</p><p class="p1">He only sees her again when it's time to go home; the second the clock turns five, her door opens and she walks out with her head slightly bent, a lollipop stick protruding out of the corner of her mouth, and her eyes trained on the ground - <em>a clear indication that she doesn't want to interact with anyone. I've done that plenty of times to easily recognize it in someone else.</em></p><p class="p1">He deliberately waits an extra few minutes before leaving so they don't take the same elevator down. It's obvious Dom wants her space, which means <em>I should probably stop worrying. It's none of my business, anyway.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>It probably isn't that big of a deal.</em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">By the time he gets home, he’s so sweaty that he feels like he can’t do anything else without taking a shower first. The cool water is refreshing and relaxing, and when he steps out of the bathroom in fresh clothes he smiles at the thought of a relaxing evening indoors with Flipper and some air conditioning - but then there’s a click at his door. It swings open so violently that for a second he thinks it’s going to blow right off its hinges.</p><p class="p1">“You won’t fucking believe what happened this morning.” Darlene bursts in, boots clopping, disheveled brown hair lazily tied up into a shapeless bun, and heart-shaped sunglasses glinting beneath the ceiling light. Her hands are flying everywhere; one of them is clutching a cup of froyo. “The audacity of her, I swear to God-”</p><p class="p1">Sighing, he tosses his towel on the bed and heads to the kitchen, opening the fridge and reaching for some leftovers.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I knew I was going to regret giving Darlene a spare key one of these days, and it looks like the day has finally come.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Then again, indulging in her frustration might give me some insight into why Dom was so upset this morning. I can exploit this somehow.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He squares his shoulders and tries his best to look interested. "What happened?"</p><p class="p1">Darlene lets out a frustrated groan before angrily pulling out a chair for her to sit in, but she occupies the chair for exactly five seconds before springing back up to her feet. She begins to walk around his kitchen area in circles; Elliot's getting dizzy from watching her. "I mean, what the fuck was she even thinking? What even possessed her to do that? What the fuck, what the actual living fuck-"</p><p class="p1"><em>It sounds like Dom did something to upset her, but I know my sister better than that. Darlene doesn't like admitting when she's wrong, so for all I know </em>she <em>could've fucked up and she's just making it look like it's Dom's fault so I can take her side.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Better keep my mouth shut for now, though. She's a ticking bomb when she's like this. Anything I say can and will be used against me.</em>
</p><p class="p1">"What did she think this was?" Darlene is still rambling, her words slightly muddled with a mouthful of frozen yogurt. "We were having a perfectly fine morning and she just had to go and fuck it all up. Whatever. It's whatever. I don't care, I don't care! I don't fucking care. I'll just lay low for awhile and let this blow over, and she'll reach out and apologize, and it'll all be good. It's fine."</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She's batshit, but it's part of why I love her so much. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Then again, if she's batshit, what am I? Crazy runs in our family.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He wisely chooses to say quiet as he heats up last night's mac and cheese, nodding every few seconds to show that he's paying attention. Darlene stomps over to the hook rack by the front door and reaches for Flipper's leash. "Mind if I take her for a walk? What I really need right now is a heart-to-heart with my best girl." As if on cue, Flipper scuttles up to her, hopping up on her hind legs to paw at Darlene’s shins.</p><p class="p1">Elliot shrugs as he takes his dinner out of the microwave. "Go for it." </p><p class="p1">
  <em>She almost always ends up in a slightly better mood after walking Flipper. This might be my opportunity to finally fish for some details.</em>
</p><p class="p1">But when Darlene comes back nearly half an hour later, she’s still in a foul mood, and she continues yelling about how Dom did something but never really elaborates on what that something is.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>It's definitely too late to ask now. She'll just cuss me out at this point.</em>
</p><p class="p1">“It’s whatever.” She says again as she hangs Flipper’s leash. It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself that it’s whatever, rather than telling him that it’s whatever. “It’s cool. I mean, it’s not cool, but it’ll be cool. She’ll get over it.”</p><p class="p1"><em>Will </em>she<em> get over it? Better not ask her that - it'll just piss her off even more.</em> “Uh, okay.” He heads over to the sink to wash his dishes. “Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”</p><p class="p1">“You listened, and that’s all that matters for now.” She bounds over to him and flicks his ear; he twitches with annoyance. “Gotta bounce. Smell ya later.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you staying at Dom’s place tonight?” <em>Wait, I already know the answer. Why did I just ask this?</em></p><p class="p1">Darlene laughs. “Fuck no.” She opens his door, slides on her glasses, and disappears. </p><p class="p1"><em>Well, that didn't help at all, but I should've expected that. Darlene's love life is as fickle as her temper, and her relationship with Dom is no different. It's obvious that they care about each other - at least that I know for sure - but sometimes I have trouble figuring out if they're actually </em>together <em>together. </em><em>I think Darlene told me a few months ago that they're 'not really anything right now' and they're just taking things as they come...but like I said, that was a few months ago. Things have definitely changed since then.</em></p><p class="p1">He groans and rubs his temples.</p><p class="p1"><em>I'm giving myself a fucking headache. Why am I even putting so much thought into this? They obviously want to keep this between themselves. I have to stop giving a shit. I </em>don't<em> give a shit.</em></p><p class="p1">Flipper barks, and he whirls around to face her. She’s sitting on his bed, her head tilted slightly. It’s like she’s telling him: <em>Of course you give a shit. Stop lying to yourself.</em></p><p class="p1">“What did she tell you?” He asks, and when Flipper yawns in response he sighs. “Nah, I get it. She told you in confidence.” He moves to the foot of his bed, sitting next to the pup, and gently pets her head.</p><p class="p1">“You’re a good friend, Flipper. Everyone needs someone like you.”</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">The next three days are carbon copies of what happened on Monday: Dom ignores him all day at work, and Elliot sits at his desk stewing in confusion until it’s time to go home.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Look, I know you're fed up with me sticking my nose into other peoples' business, but it's kind of hard to ignore this. This isn't the first time Dom and Darlene had a disagreement and it definitely won't be the last, but this is the longest they've gone without speaking to each other since Dom got back from her trip. That definitely means this is serious.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Also, Darlene hasn't been coming over lately, which is another reason why I know this is a lot worse than it looks. Don't get me wrong - the past three nights alone have been great, and it's nice having my own space every once in awhile, but it's weird not having her barge in unannounced like she always does. I know she's okay - you've seen the texts she's been sending. Sure, they're usually in the middle of the night, and it's always about something stupid (Remember the one where she asked if I'd rather get buried alive in a coffin filled with spiders or a coffin filled with worms?), but at least I know she's not hurt or anything. When Darlene distances herself like this, it usually means she's taking some time to do a bit of thinking - and when she needs her own space to think, that's when I know this shit is for real.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I guess I don't really have any other option than to sit tight and hope they'll tell me eventually, but fuck - I just hate feeling like I can't do anything. </em>
</p><p class="p1">He walks into work on Thursday looking defeated as Dom once again brushes past him without uttering a single word. He slumps at his desk, heaving a sigh, not even bothering to adjust his monitor. </p><p class="p1"><em>Worst case scenario is that they broke up. Maybe that's why they're not saying anything about it. Maybe Dom's ignoring me because it's weird to have an ex's brother as a coworker. In that case, I don't really blame her, but then I'd have to figure out how to divide my time between her and Darlene. I can't </em>not<em> be Dom's friend just because they broke up.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Fuck. I feel like the child of divorced parents. </em>
</p><p class="p1">Exactly five minutes after his computer boots up, he gets a message notification on the bottom right corner of his screen. He leans in to read it, and his eyes go wide - it’s from Dom.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>My office. ASAP.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He grabs a notebook and pen even though he knows he won’t be taking any notes. When he reaches Dom’s door, he raises a hand to knock on it, but Dom opens it just as his knuckles are about to touch the wood. She hurriedly ushers him inside, peeking out at the rest of the office before closing the door. She looks like she’s hiding a terrible secret, which kind of worries him.</p><p class="p1">“Are…” His eyes move left to right as she begins to pace the room. “You okay?”</p><p class="p1">“What do you think?” She heads over to the window and runs her hands through her hair. “Did she tell you?”</p><p class="p1">“Who?”</p><p class="p1">She rolls her eyes. "Who else would I be talking about, Elliot? Darlene. Did she tell you anything?"</p><p class="p1">"No. Was she supposed to?"</p><p class="p1">“I thought you guys tell each other everything.”</p><p class="p1">“We do, but, uh…” He scratches his head. “We’re still working on certain aspects of it.” </p><p class="p1">
  <em>That's not a complete lie. I was never really invested in Darlene's love life, but I guess you can say I regret that now. I watched her go through a revolving door of shitty partners over the years, each of them exponentially worse than the last. Before Dom came along, Cisco was probably the only other person who treated her decently, but even that's a bit of a stretch. You remember all the shady shit he pulled; I don't have to go into detail.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>I know Darlene isn't perfect either. She's been a shitty partner in her own right, but I can't help but wonder if there's anything I could've done to prevent this somehow. Maybe I could've intervened when one of them was being exceptionally bad to her, or maybe I could've just offered a shoulder to cry on when she was going through a rough patch with someone. Honestly, I don't know how helpful I could've been, seeing as my own track record with relationships is just as terrible, but still - I could've done </em>something,<em> anything. I'm supposed to be her big brother, the one person she can rely on when shit hits the fan.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>I tried so hard to protect her from the monsters at home. I should've tried to protect her from the other monsters too.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I guess I should be giving a shit after all.</em>
</p><p class="p1">“So,” Dom’s hands are still in her hair. “Monday morning starts out like any other morning, right? We wake up, I make breakfast, we eat together, I get ready for work. We’ve been doing this for weeks. It’s just a regular morning routine. This happens every week. Not much thought put into it. It’s automatic. We’re on autopilot.” She’s talking so quickly Elliot’s having trouble understanding her. “But then, when it’s time for me to go, I open the door, and I just…” She throws her head back, groaning loudly with her eyes clamped shut. </p><p class="p1">His brow furrows. “What?”</p><p class="p1">“Before I leave we always say goodbye, because that’s just our thing. It’s what we say to each other every morning. She always says it first - <em>Kick some ass, tell Elliot I said hi.” She’s actually really good at impersonating Darlene; if the situation wasn’t so serious I probably would’ve laughed.</em> “And I tell her goodbye and that I will, but then…” She buries her face into her hands and mumbles something that Elliot can’t make out.</p><p class="p1">He leans in a little bit. “Then…?” She repeats herself, but she’s still mumbling into her hands, so he can’t pick up anything. “I can’t hear a single word you’re saying, Dom.”</p><p class="p1">She finally pulls her hands away from her face; she looks absolutely mortified. “I told her that I loved her.”</p><p class="p1"><em>So that’s why Darlene was throwing a fit. It makes perfect sense, but at the same time…</em> “Isn’t that what everyone says to someone they care about?”</p><p class="p1">“No!” Dom exclaims, nearly scaring Elliot out of his own skin when her voice suddenly raises a few decibels. “You don’t just say that to anyone! Do you just walk up to the next schmoe on the sidewalk and tell them you love them?”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She's freaking out. Dom never freaks out. </em>
</p><p class="p1">“Uh, no?” Elliot blinks. “But…Darlene isn’t just any other person. You’ve been togeth-”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t say it.” She warns him, and he immediately closes his mouth. “We’re not…you know.” Her expression mutates from angry to confused. “I mean, we are, but we’re also not…but also…oh, God. I don’t even know.”</p><p class="p1">“You don’t know?” <em>Oh, she definitely knows. She's just in denial. Maybe if I prod her hard enough I can get her to admit it.</em> “You guys see each other every week.”</p><p class="p1">“So? That doesn’t mean anything.”</p><p class="p1">He tries a different approach. “How did she react?”</p><p class="p1">“Badly.” Dom is in pure agony. “She didn’t look happy at all - in fact, she looked kind of pissed. I’m pretty sure she was going to say something, but I bolted out of there before I could hear anything. I just couldn’t handle it.”</p><p class="p1"><em>She looks like she's going to have an aneurysm. I feel for her, I really do - </em>Darlene <em>and </em>commitment<em> are never used in the same sentence, at least not in a positive sense, and I doubt that'll change any time soon. Any form of emotional attachment scares the shit out of her, and I can't blame her for that either. She has plenty of reasons to feel that way. You know how terrible our parents were. </em></p><p class="p1"><em>Does she know anything about how Darlene and I grew up? I have a feeling she doesn't. Darlene is more tight-lipped about our shitty childhood than I am, which says a lot, but Dom would </em>have<em> to know something if she thinks she 'fucked up' by telling Darlene she loves her. Why would she be making such a big deal out of it if she doesn't know why Darlene would be upset?</em></p><p class="p1">Elliot opens and closes his notebook for the sake of occupying his hands. “Did you mean it?”</p><p class="p1">“It just slipped out.” Dom groans. “I don’t know why it did, but it did. I wasn’t thinking.”</p><p class="p1">“Right, but did you mean it?”</p><p class="p1">She cocks her head and furrows her brow; he could’ve asked her a very difficult physics question. “What do you mean?”</p><p class="p1">He shrugs. “Do you love her?”</p><p class="p1">Dom lets out an exasperated gasp. “I...what?” She scoffs again, shaking her head and laughing out of disbelief. “Oh, c’mon! You don’t...you don’t expect me to answer that, do you?”</p><p class="p1">Elliot gives her another shrug. “It’s a simple question.”</p><p class="p1">“It is not that simple and you know it.” She glowers at him.</p><p class="p1">“It can be if you want it to.” He casually replies. “I love her.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s different! You’re brother and sister!”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t love her just because she’s related to me.” He keeps his tone as even and calm as possible. “When I woke up in the hospital, I barely remembered anything that happened in the past year. There were bits and pieces but for the most part, I was in the dark. I would get these feelings of regret, or anger, but I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling them, or where they came from. Darlene...she explained everything to me, even the parts I didn’t want to hear. She told me all about the fucked up things we did, all of the crazy shit we got into, all the people we lost along the way because of the mistakes we made.” His eyes drop to his shoes and he starts to play with his hands. “Eventually, it all came back to me - even the parts Darlene didn’t know about, and it...it wasn’t easy, especially in those first few months. Every day I’d recover something more fucked up than the last - like, just when I thought I couldn’t have done anything more fucked up, another trigger comes out of nowhere and I remember something even worse. Sometimes it just felt like there wasn’t any point to it all, that I shouldn’t even be here, or that there isn’t a reason for me to try, but she pushed me to keep going, even when I didn’t want to. She gave me a reason to want to try to get better, to keep moving forward. She believed in me when no one else did, and...” He shrugs, smiling to himself. “She loves me. "She did all of that for me because she loves me. I’m the least deserving of that kind of love, yet she loves me anyway. All I want to do is show her that I love her the same way.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Shit, did I have that sitting in reserve or something? How did all of that just spill out? </em>
</p><p class="p1">Her eyes soften at his words; in fact, she kind of looks like she’s going to cry. “That’s why you took the fall for most of the trial, wasn’t it? You pled guilty to all those charges but kept insisting your sister wasn’t involved, even though I knew she was.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I didn’t believe Darlene at first when she told me Dom’s been following our case for years. She told me how she had this whole conspiracy board set up at work - you know, like the ones you see in TV shows with the pictures of the culprits and all the lines connecting them together. Dom knew who we were way before we knew who she was. I honestly think she’s the only competent person working in law enforcement. If she wasn’t on our side, I’m pretty sure she would’ve singlehandedly taken us down, and she almost did at one point - which begs the question…</em>
</p><p class="p1">“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Elliot blinks. “You could’ve proven that Darlene was the real leader of fsociety, that I was covering for her all along. I know you have enough evidence to dispute almost everything I ever said in that courtroom…but you didn’t.”</p><p class="p1">The smile on Dom’s face is sad, almost apologetic. “I’ve been asking myself that question ever since I got back from Europe. I wish I knew the answer, Elliot, but I don’t. Maybe it’s because a part of me agrees with what the both of you did.”</p><p class="p1">He furrows his brow. “But the majority of you doesn’t.” <em>If there’s one thing I learned about Dom, it’s that I’ll never be able to persuade her to change her views on what’s right and what’s wrong- and that’s fine with me. In fact, it’s one of the things I like about her. She has strong convictions and she stands by what she believes in. It’s partially why she’s so good at her job, and why I think her and Darlene work well together. They’re both kind of the same in that regard, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. They fill in each other’s gaps, if that makes any sense.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>It’s why I think they need each other.</em>
</p><p class="p1">“No, but if it wasn’t you, then it would’ve been Whiterose and the Dark Army, and I definitely wouldn’t have wanted that.” Dom scoffs. “You’re the lesser of two evils - well, okay, you’re not evil. You’re far from it, actually - but you get what I mean. If I had to choose between you or Whiterose, it would be you any day, but ideally I would like to choose neither.”</p><p class="p1">“Fair enough.” <em>I would’ve done the same.</em> “But if you had the option to choose neither, I don’t think you would’ve ever had the chance to meet my sister.”</p><p class="p1">There’s a subtle shock to Dom’s expression, like she just solved the world’s most difficult riddle. “Then...maybe that’s why I never said anything.” She sighs and briefly glances out the window for a second before making eye contact with him again. “I know you don’t see it, Elliot, but you definitely deserve the love she has for you, and she knows you love her. I can feel it whenever she talks about you - and trust me, she talks about you a lot.” </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Well, intentional or not, my little monologue from earlier seemed to have helped, which is good.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He chuckles sheepishly. “She talks about you a lot too. Well, it’s more like she complains about you a lot, but when she complains about you that means she cares. She’s weird like that.”</p><p class="p1">She strides over to her desk, flops down in her seat, and heaves a sigh. “I...<em>care</em>...about her.” She runs a hand through her hair, brushing it back. “To be honest with you, a small part of me keeps saying I shouldn’t, but I do anyway.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Their relationship got off on the wrong foot, and that's putting it lightly. Darlene filled me in on all the details, and honestly it's something out of a terrible movie. Law Breaker and Law Enforcer are drawn together by fate and they're begrudgingly forced to work together under extraordinary circumstances, but they gradually start to grow closer. Law Breaker fucks up and breaks the trust that had unexpectedly built up between them over the time they spent together, and even though Law Enforcer is hurt over what happened and vows to never let Law Breaker into her life ever again, they both slowly start to realize that maybe they're more than just foes. A classic enemies-to-lovers romance, coming to theatres near you.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Dom knows that Darlene's the real ringleader behind fsociety, but I wonder how much she actually knows about what Darlene's done. Does she know the truth about Susan Jacobs? Everyone knows now that fsociety was responsible for her disappearance but no charges were laid since there wasn’t any evidence to prove there was a murder. They can’t even officially declare her dead since there’s no body. Of course I know what happened, and the feds tried grilling me for answers, but there’s no way in hell I’m telling them anything. That’s between me, Darlene, and possibly Dom.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>But I’m gonna assume Dom doesn’t know, because if she did I'm pretty sure she would've said or done something about it by now. Dom wouldn't just let that shit slide - or maybe she would, if it's for Darlene. Does she care about her that much to make such a huge exception? No, her sense of morality is too strong for that. It would weigh on her conscience for the rest of her life - then again...people do crazy things for the ones they love. I don't know. I really don't know.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He scratches his temple with the end of his pen, wracking his brain for something to say. “What does this small part of you say? Does it tell you that it’s wrong?”</p><p class="p1">“No, no.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I don’t know, really. It’s just...sometimes I think about it in the long run, and how it’s going to work. We’re so different from each other. We have very different views on a lot of things. It’s like...” She clicks her tongue. “This part of me is just waiting for the day when we’ll be too different, and it’ll stop.”</p><p class="p1">“But you don’t want it to stop.”</p><p class="p1">“Of course not.” Dom sighs. “Elliot, she’s hurt me. A lot. She’s done a lot of things that I normally wouldn’t ever forgive - but these recent months, she’s proved that she isn’t that person anymore. She’s still a pain in the ass and I know she always will be to some degree, but she’s...actually grown a bit, and while I’m happy for her, I’m also kind of...afraid. I’m afraid this might mean that we’ll eventually grow apart, and I don’t want that.”</p><p class="p1"><em>What Darlene did to her was fucked up. I know, I know - I've done my own fair share of fucked up things so I don't have a right to say that, but she </em>really <em>hurt Dom. The thing is, Darlene rarely regrets anything. She's always been the type to do whatever she wants no matter what the consequences are. She never cared how her actions affected others so long as she got what she wanted - but when she told me about what she did to Dom, all I could see on her face was regret. That </em>never<em> happens. That's how I know their relationship is different.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>And Dom's right about Darlene growing up a bit. She's been doing really well in therapy and she has a stronger hold on her panic attacks. She even restricts herself to only spending the night at Dom's on weekends so she can learn to be okay with sleeping alone. She doesn't have nightmares anymore, and she's been slowly opening up to me about the shit she went through as a kid. </em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>I didn't even know most of these things were happening, but now that she told me it makes complete sense. Our parents may have been shitty, but in the </em>very<em> rare instances where they weren't, most of their attention has been on me. It was always about what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to go. Darlene was never their focal point; you couldn't even say she was on the outskirts of it. She was largely ignored by them. In many ways, they acted like she never existed. Dad </em>sometimes<em> acknowledged her, but Mom always treated her like an obstruction - something that's just constantly in the way. In many ways, she was a lot harder on Darlene than she was on me. It makes me wonder if our parents even wanted her in the first place. Now I know why she ran away from home so often.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>I guess that explains why she is the way she is now. Being loud and obnoxious is a surefire way to get attention and maybe she's just making up for the severe lack of it in her earlier years. Fuck - I </em>am<em> a shitty brother. I should've realized this sooner. I should've helped her. I should've protected her. I should've reminded her that I </em>saw<em> her, that I </em>knew<em> she was there, that I </em>wanted<em> her around. </em></p><p class="p1">“You said that you cared about her, right?” Elliot keeps his eyes trained on her nameplate, which is sitting directly in front of him on the edge of her desk. “What exactly is it about her that makes you care?”</p><p class="p1">Dom looks dumbstruck by his question; she clearly never gave it this much thought before. “I guess she kind of just...gets me. We have this mutual understanding of each other, this weird connection. I look at her and I automatically know what she’s thinking, and she does the same for me.” Her eyes glaze over for a moment, like she’s staring at something very far away from here. “She looks at me and it makes me feel like she instantly knows everything about me, like I can’t hide anything from her - and the wackiest part about it is that I’m okay with it. Normally, that would scare the living daylights out of me, but with her...I don’t mind it. Actually, I think I like it.” She blinks, seemingly surprised that those words just came out of her mouth. “I’ve never felt that way towards anyone else before.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She's having an epiphany right now, and I just so happen to be the sole witness - and maybe the instigator too. Her face journey is hilarious.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>The eureka moment: </em>I love Darlene Alderson.</p><p class="p1"><em>The subsequent panic: </em>Oh my God. I <em>love</em> Darlene Alderson.</p><p class="p1"><em>The denial:</em> No, I can’t love her. There’s no way. Sure, maybe I <em>care</em> about her, but that’s not the same as <em>loving</em> her.</p><p class="p1"><em>The questioning: </em>Wait, why do I love her? She annoys me on a daily basis. She pushes my buttons on purpose because she thinks it’s funny when I’m angry. Why should I love someone like that? </p><p class="p1"><em>The reasoning: </em>But she reminds me that I need to take care of myself. She believes in me even when it feels like everything is impossible. She texts me stupid jokes when I’m having a bad day at work. That’s gotta count for something, right?</p><p class="p1"><em>The doubt:</em> She can’t possibly feel the same way. Why would she? I’m a mess of a human being. I’m emotionally constipated. I don’t know how to talk to people. We’re too different. This won’t work in the long run.</p><p class="p1"><em>The questioning, phase two: </em>We’ve made it work this far, so why wouldn’t we be able to keep this up? Has she even done anything to prove that she doesn’t feel the same way? If this ‘connection’ is mutual - and I know it is, I can see it very clearly on her face when she looks at me - then doesn’t that mean that these feelings are mutual too? </p><p class="p1"><em>And, finally, acceptance:</em> Goddammit. I love Darlene Alderson.</p><p class="p1">He awkwardly clears his throat and straightens his back. “Dom? You okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Huh?” She snaps out of her thoughts, swallowing hard before opening a drawer and pulling out a couple of lollipops. She tosses the red one over to him and unwraps the green one for herself. “Yeah. Peachy.”</p><p class="p1">He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You sure?” He pockets his lollipop.</p><p class="p1">She sticks the lollipop into her mouth and shrugs. “You’re right, Elliot. Maybe I do...care a little more than I want to admit. Maybe I really did mean it after all.”</p><p class="p1"><em>Interesting how she still can't bring it upon herself to say the l-word, but maybe it's because she wants to save it for when she sees Darlene again. Either way, we have a breakthrough! </em>“I honestly don’t think you can just let something like that slip out without meaning it, even if it’s just a little.”</p><p class="p1">Her cheeks flush a faint shade of pink. “I just...don’t know how I’m supposed to bounce back from this. What if she freaks out?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, she definitely will.” Elliot chuckles, but he straightens his face when Dom’s expression falls. “But that doesn’t mean you should give up. It’s just the way she is - you know what I mean. You gotta give her some time to chill out first, and then you can talk to her.” He flips his notebook open and closed again. “Tomorrow’s Friday - that gives you a full day to think up of what to say before you see each other again - that is, if you want to.” </p><p class="p1">“Of course I do.” Dom sighs. “As much as I want to strangle her sometimes…I miss her. I think a day is all I really need to figure things out.”</p><p class="p1">He smiles. “I’m sure you’ll think of the right words, especially now that you finally know how you really feel about her.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, you’re right.” She points her lollipop at him. “Darlene always said you were smart.”</p><p class="p1">He chuckles as he rises to his feet. “I’m just trying to help.” He heads over to her door and reaches for the handle. “Things will work out, Dom. Trust me.”</p><p class="p1">“I hope so.” Just as he opens the door, she calls out to him. “Hey, Elliot?” When he glances over his shoulder, she gives him a smile.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks.”</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Now that Dom's been sorted out, it's time for Phase Two, which of course has to be the hardest part of the plan. Anything that has to do with dealing with Darlene is insanely hard.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>We never really talk about relationships, so I don't know what to expect. She'll probably have a few angry outbursts about how love isn't forever and that it's actually just a social construct concocted by conglomerates so people can keep buying cards and stuffed animals from Hallmark. Now, you know I have my own opinions on consumer culture, but I'd like to think of myself as more of an optimist. I want to believe that love is the main motivator for this world, and it's what keeps pushing people to improve themselves. Maybe I won't be able to convince her to think the same, but I'm hoping I can get through to her somehow.</em>
</p><p class="p1">It’s another humidity soaked day, so Elliot hops in the shower the second he gets home. When he steps out of the bathroom, Darlene is sitting by the kitchen table, bent over in her seat and rubbing Flipper’s belly.</p><p class="p1">“Have you ever heard of knocking?” He sighs. “We gave each other spare keys in case of emergencies.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s nice to see you too.” She straightens up as Flipper moves to her favourite spot under Elliot’s bed for a nap; she’s wearing her sunglasses even though it’s kind of dim in here.</p><p class="p1">“This is the first time I’ve see you since Monday.” Elliot heads over to the kitchenette and leans against the counter. “What have you been up to since then?”</p><p class="p1">“Hanging out.” Darlene grins. “Doing my own thing.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>How am I going to bring this up? Quick, think of something. Do you have any ideas? Help me out here.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Wait. I think I have something.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He makes his way over to his bag, which he hung on the hook rack when he first came in. He reaches into one of the pockets and pulls out the red lollipop Dom gave him earlier, spinning on his heel as he unwraps it so Darlene can see.</p><p class="p1">His plan works perfectly; he can see Darlene’s eyes through her sunglasses tracking the candy as he pops it into his mouth. “Where the fuck did you get that?”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Hook, line, and sinker.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He shrugs and moves to sit on the foot of his bed. “Dom gave it to me.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene swivels around in her chair, sitting on it backwards with her arms resting atop the backrest. She pulls off her sunglasses so she can fully glare at him. “Why.” The lack of inflection in her tone makes it sound more like a statement than a question.</p><p class="p1">He shrugs again, pinching the lollipop stick in between his index finger and thumb. “Why not? We’re friends.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene doesn’t look convinced. “What did she tell you?”</p><p class="p1"><em>She usually isn't this gullible. Darlene is practically immune to bullshit, but she's actually falling for this and it's blowing my mind. Man, she's in </em>deep<em> with Dom, isn't she?</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Okay, I can't get too excited. Act calm. Act natural.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He leans back on his palms, the mattress groaning under his weight. “She didn’t say much. Just went on about messing something up with you on Monday but she didn’t really give me any details.”</p><p class="p1">This sets Darlene off; she bolts to her feet and her arms go wild, gesturing at an invisible audience. “She fucked everything up.”</p><p class="p1"><em>Here we go. </em>He furrows his brow, trying his best to look intrigued. “How?”</p><p class="p1">“She really didn’t tell you?” Darlene raises an eyebrow at him. “Whatever, I don’t care. Anyways, right before she leaves for work she fucking turns around and says...” For a second she hesitates, almost like she’s having difficulty with continuing her sentence. She throws her head back and lets out a dramatic, angry groan, running one hand through her hair before she starts circling the kitchen area. “She says…<em>Love you.” </em>Her expression sours. <em>“Love you?</em> What the fuck is that?”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, she told you she lov-”</p><p class="p1">“Finish that sentence and I will kill you right here, right now.” She stabs a finger in his direction, her large blue eyes narrowing into angry slits.</p><p class="p1">“What?” Elliot can’t hold in his laughter anymore; he’s chuckling, but he’s keeping his head bent because he’s afraid that making eye contact will only make her angrier. <em>Please don't kill me, Darlene. I'm trying to help you.</em> “So the reason why you’ve been so pissed off these past few days is because Dom told you...” He vaguely gesticulates. “You know.”</p><p class="p1">“Uh, duh.” She gawks at him, appalled that he’s even asking her such a thing. “Are you even paying attention?”</p><p class="p1">“I am.” He uses his tongue to push the lollipop from one side to his mouth to the other. “That’s why I’m having trouble understanding. You’re mad because someone cares about you?”</p><p class="p1">“I...” Darlene opens and closes her mouth multiple times, struggling to come up with a retort. When she fails, she groans again and throws her hands up in the air. “How the hell was I supposed to react?”</p><p class="p1">“It depends.” Elliot replies. “Do you feel the same way?” When Darlene looks like she’s about to start yelling again, he quickly continues. “Darlene, I don’t think you’re mad. I think you’re afraid.”</p><p class="p1">Her eyebrow twitches. “Are you swapping notes with Ben now?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m serious. Remember when you told me about Cisco and how he propos-”</p><p class="p1">She closes her eyes. “Don’t-”</p><p class="p1">“He proposed to you, and your first reaction was to leave him.” Elliot points out, twirling the stick of his lollipop with his fingers. “You freak out whenever someone tries to get closer to you. You’re scared of intimacy.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Maybe bringing Cisco up was a bad idea, but he's the best example I can think of. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Anger is Darlene's safe mode. It's the front she puts up to protect herself. I know this better than anybody. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She dodges and parries, and even when she's out of excuses she'll somehow manage to find a way to push people away. She's programmed to resist vulnerability, even around the people she's closest to. It's just the way she's wired.</em>
</p><p class="p1">“I am not-” She stops, sucking in a breath and turning away from him as she noisily exhales. She finally adds in a much quieter voice, “Don’t act like you aren’t scared when it happens to you.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>See what I mean about dodging and parrying? I'm wearing her down, though. She needs to know that being vulnerable isn't always a bad thing, as long as you're around people who know what to do when it happens. Hell, it's a lesson I'm still trying to learn, but I'd like to think I'm getting better at it. </em>
</p><p class="p1">“I’m not acting.” He frowns. “Some of the people I trusted the most have done horrible, unforgivable things. That’s a fact and I can't keep pretending it never happened.” </p><p class="p1">
  <em>I can't stick my head in the sand like I used to. It's not going to heal if I don't air it out every once in awhile.</em>
</p><p class="p1">His words seem to have an effect on her; Darlene swallows hard and turns so that her back is turned towards him. “I know.” It’s almost a whisper; it’s so quiet Elliot thought he imagined her saying it.</p><p class="p1">He slowly rises to his feet, chucking the lollipop stick into the nearby trash before taking a couple steps closer towards her. “It’s really hard for me to trust people. I can’t tell the difference between a person who wants to hurt me and a person who genuinely wants to be my friend. I used to just assume that everyone has the worst intentions, that all they want is to hurt others.”</p><p class="p1">She scoffs, but she still isn’t looking at him. “You’re not wrong.”</p><p class="p1">“But that’s the thing - I am wrong.” He insists. “It’s no secret that the world can be really shitty sometimes, but when it’s not…it’s actually really nice. It’s what makes it worth saving, even with the risk of things getting shitty every once in awhile. Nothing’s ever going to be perfect. This is all we’ve got - we might as well make the best of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “When we’re lucky enough to find someone who genuinely loves us, who wants only the best for us, who still thinks the world of us even when we’re not at our best...you hold onto them and you hold on as tight as you can. You don’t know how much time you have with them.” </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Please believe me. I mean every word.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He keeps his eyes trained on her shoulder blades. She sighs and raises her hands to her face, rubbing vigorously as she finally turns back around to face him. “You need to stop with the life guru act. It’s weird.”</p><p class="p1">Elliot can’t help but smile. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”</p><p class="p1">Darlene shrugs; she’s still rubbing her eyes. “I don’t understand why someone would still want to stick around even after they’ve seen the absolute worst of you. Why do they even bother? What’s the point?”</p><p class="p1"><em>Trust me, I ask myself the same questions sometimes. </em>He crosses his arms and furrows his brow as he tries to think of a good enough answer. “Well, Dom’s seen you at your worst, but-”</p><p class="p1">“She’s only seen me at my worst.”</p><p class="p1">“See, I don’t think that’s true.” He says casually. “If she’s only seen you at your worst, she wouldn’t have a reason to stay.” He pauses for a second. “If you were only made up of bad things, I wouldn’t have a reason to stay either.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene sniffles, dropping her eyes to her boots. “Neither of you should even be here in the first place.”</p><p class="p1">“Of course we should.” He steps closer towards her. “Trust me, I know how hard it is to unlearn how to hate yourself, but if you continue shutting yourself out like what you’re doing now, you’re going to shut everyone else out too, and before you know it you’ll be alone. I know you don’t want that.” When she shakes her head, he throws her a small, reassuring smile. “You aren’t perfect, but nobody’s expecting you to be. What Dom and I want is for you to realize that you’re not as terrible as you think you are, and that you deserve to be loved despite all of the things you’ve done in your past.” He shrugs. “You still love me even though I've done terrible things. If you can look past all of the shit I've done, there's no reason why Dom and I can't do the same for you.”</p><p class="p1">She chokes on a sob, but she quickly covers it up with a sarcastic laugh. “I swear to God, that explosion must’ve melted your brain or something. You’ve been so mushy lately, it’s gross.” She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. “But Dom…I dunno.” She laughs through her tears, shaking her head in disbelief. “She’s relentless. She just rolls with the fucking punches. When I act up - and you know how I get when that happens - she doesn’t freak out or bite my head off. I mean, okay, she freaks out a little. It would’ve been weird if she didn’t - but it doesn’t take long for her to calm down, and she…she’s just so…<em>patient</em> with me. She actually listens to what I have to say, even when I don’t make much sense, and she talks to me like I’m an actual fucking adult and not some overgrown kid throwing a hissy fit.” There’s a brief pause; she bites her bottom lip for a second. “She’s the first person I’ve ever…been…with who treated me that way, and I guess that’s why I flipped out. I just didn’t know how to react, because I’ve never actually had anything like this before.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Yeah, Dom's definitely a keeper.</em>
</p><p class="p1">Her large eyes get larger by just a fraction, <em>and there it is - the reaction I've been waiting for: The sudden realization that yes, she actually does love Dom, and that she wants to hear Dom say that she loves her again…and again, and again, and again. The look on her face says that she kind of wants to hear Dom say it forever, and that she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of hearing it.</em></p><p class="p1">But the enlightenment quickly turns into fear. “Did she tell you how she just ran off after she said it?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh, no.” <em>Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb. Please tell me I sound convincing.</em> “But don’t take it as a bad sign.”</p><p class="p1">“How the fuck else am I supposed to take it?” Darlene helplessly throws up her arms. “When someone tells you they love you and just bails, it’s never a good sign!”</p><p class="p1">“I think she’s just as afraid as you are. This is new for the both of you, but it’s also really obvious that you care about each other. There’s no reason to doubt that.”</p><p class="p1">She throws her head back and groans at the ceiling. “It’s not that obvious.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes it is.” He states it like it’s a universally known fact. <em>That's because it is.</em></p><p class="p1">“How?” <em>I don't think I've ever seen Darlene embarrassed before - not until now. It's actually kind of hilarious.</em> <em>She's trying her hardest to sound like she's accusing me of something, but it's not working. Fuck, I want to laugh so badly right now, but I also value my life, so I better swallow it.</em></p><p class="p1">“You’re always complaining about her.” Elliot crosses his arms. “I’ve been around you long enough to know that complaining about someone is your weird way of showing how much you actually like them.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene looks fully flustered now. “Okay, that is not true.”</p><p class="p1">“It definitely is.” He smirks. “You came to me last week because you really needed to complain about how she does her hair every morning before work.” <em>You're lucky you're not around when she goes off like this. She gets really nitpicky about the most insignificant things - it's annoying as hell, but that's how I know she </em>really<em> likes Dom.</em></p><p class="p1">“She uses a curling iron when she doesn’t need to!” Darlene exclaims. “She’s just going to burn her goddamn ends off and it’ll look stupider than it already does.”</p><p class="p1">“What about when you asked about getting a turtle, and you freaked out because she said no?”</p><p class="p1">“There wasn’t even a good reason for that.” Darlene rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t like I was gonna keep it at her place or anything. I just asked her if it was a good idea.”</p><p class="p1">“And she said it wasn’t, because she doesn’t even think you can take care of a houseplant.” Elliot points out with amusement.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck you, I took care of Moon Pie.” She huffs. </p><p class="p1"><em>It’s getting harder and harder to keep a straight face. </em>“Turtles are way different than cats. Cisco thought you wouldn’t be able to take care of one; what makes you think Dom would?”</p><p class="p1">She groans. “You all suck. I should just go out and get one anyway.”</p><p class="p1">He raises an eyebrow. “Then there’s that other time when you couldn’t stop complaining about the way she yells at you when you drink her orange juice straight from the carton.” <em>Don't even get me started with this one.</em></p><p class="p1">“It’s not like anyone else is gonna drink it. She only buys it because she knows I-” Darlene cuts herself off when she realizes she’s only proving him right. Her eyes are wide again with the same truth she discovered moments earlier.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Yep, she loves Dom.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Two revelations in the span of a few minutes. I'm </em>really<em> fucking good at this. </em>“So…what do you think this means?”</p><p class="p1">Darlene rolls her eyes. She knows what he’s trying to get her to say, and judging by her expression she’s not going to indulge him. Instead, she walks up to him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her nose into his shoulder. “It means I’m going to spend the rest of tonight figuring out what to say to her when I see her tomorrow.” </p><p class="p1">Elliot happily returns the hug. “Glad to hear it.” He gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before they pull apart. “You good?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah.” She mumbles. “I just need some space for a bit. There’s a lot I have to say and I need time to sort it all out.”</p><p class="p1">“Try not to overthink it.” He suggests as he follows her towards his door. “The right words will come.”</p><p class="p1">She wrenches his door open, but before she steps through she half-turns to smirk at him. “You know, you’re not so bad at this big brother thing.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Better late than never, I guess.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He shrugs. “I figured I’d at least try, since you’re always up in my personal space.”</p><p class="p1">She glares at him, but the barely contained laugh tugging at the corners of her mouth softens its severity. “Fuck you.” </p><p class="p1">He throws her a grin before she disappears behind her own door. “I love you too, Darlene.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I do. I really do.</em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Elliot gets a text from his sister late Friday night, asking him if he wants to head over and watch a movie with her and Dom. The <em>her and Dom </em>part brings a smile to his face - <em>so they managed to work things out after all.</em></p><p class="p1">He scoops Flipper into his arms and knocks on Darlene’s door, but his brow furrows when there’s no response. There’s the faint muffling of the TV running on the other side of the wall, but he can’t hear any signs of Dom or Darlene. He tentatively twists the doorknob, his brow furrowing even more when he realizes it’s unlocked. </p><p class="p1">He hesitantly steps inside, straining his ears for any noise that may sound out of place.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Darlene, if I'm walking into what I think I'm walking into, I'm gonna-</em>
</p><p class="p1">But when he heads into the sitting area and glances at the couch he stifles a laugh before gently placing Flipper on the ground.</p><p class="p1">Darlene only texted him about ten minutes ago, but she and Dom somehow managed to fall asleep since then. They’re stretched out across the couch, Dom on the bottom with her head propped up against the arm rest, her chin buried in Darlene’s hair, and her arms securely wrapped around her waist. Darlene is on top, one arm around Dom’s neck and the other dangling over the edge of the couch. Her face is partially hidden as it’s nuzzled into Dom’s shoulder, but there’s a faint trace of a smile hovering over her lips.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I'm hoping this is the aftermath of a very long conversation.</em>
</p><p class="p1">Flipper scurries over to the couch, curling up right where Darlene’s hand nearly touches the floor. Elliot smiles to himself as he grabs the bowl of half-eaten popcorn sitting next to the TV and sits on the floor next to Flipper. He glances at the TV; it’s another low budget horror film <em>(Don't think I've seen this one before)</em>. He reaches for the remote and decides to play it from the very beginning. It’s not like anyone else is watching, anyway.</p><p class="p1">He tosses a kernel over to Flipper, and he smiles again when she expertly catches it with her mouth. He ruffles the tuft of fur on her head before leaning back, careful not to accidentally nudge Dom or Darlene. When the opening credits fade onto the screen, Elliot happily stuffs his mouth with a handful of popcorn.</p><p class="p1">“I think we did good, Flipper.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Very Long Conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">She can do this.</p><p class="p1">She can totally do this.</p><p class="p1">“Alexa, play some Fleetwood Mac.”</p><p class="p1">A beat of silence.</p><p class="p1">“Shuffling songs by Fleetwood Mac.” Seconds later, Alexa’s speakers are trembling with<em> Say You Love Me.</em></p><p class="p1">The irony almost wants to make her laugh. Almost.</p><p class="p1">She heads into the bathroom, sighing at her dismal reflection before plugging in her curling iron. She splashes her face with water as it warms up and brushes on a thin layer of makeup so she looks at least halfway decent. The curling iron doesn’t help at all, and after a dozen failed attempts at making her hair <em>not</em> look like a hopeless mess she gives up, leaving the bathroom to change out of her work clothes and into dark jeans, a pair of worn out high tops, and a grey t-shirt. She shuts Alexa off and heads to her door, but when her hand is inches away from the doorknob she stops herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.</p><p class="p1">She can do this.</p><p class="p1">It’s just a conversation. They’re just going to talk. It’s going to be fine.</p><p class="p1">She finally opens her door and steps through.</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">The sun is nearly snuffed out by the time she approaches Elliot and Darlene’s building. She stands by the front steps for a few minutes, staring up at the front door like it’s the most frightening thing she’s ever seen in her entire life.</p><p class="p1">She can do this.</p><p class="p1">Dom sucks in another breath, holding it for a few seconds, then finally exhaling as she ascends the steps and heads inside. She jogs up the stairs, and when she finally lands on the fourth floor she turns a corner - only to collide directly with Darlene, who was just about to make her way downstairs.</p><p class="p1">“Dude, can you watch where you’re fucking goi-” Darlene stumbles back from the impact, her eyes flashing with anger for a split second - but when she realizes who it is, her expression quickly morphs into one of shock. “Dom?”</p><p class="p1">She lets out a nervous laugh and stiffly raises her hand, waving it once. “Hi.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene eyes her up and down, shaking her head in disbelief. It’s like she’s having a hard time processing that Dom is here, right in front of her, existing. “What the hell are you doing here?”</p><p class="p1">A million possible answers flit across her brain like ticker tape:</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I missed you.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Even though I said I loved you by accident, I meant every word.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>God, you are so fucking beautiful.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I came by because I needed you to know that I love you.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Were you always this short, or am I just too tall?</em>
</p><p class="p1">But she decides to go with, “I wanted to see you.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene’s eyes soften and quickly glaze over with tears, almost like she’s been holding them back all week and this was the <em>one</em> thing that finally broke her down. Dom takes a step forward with the intent of reaching out to her, to wipe those tears from her eyes and to tell her how stupid she’s been these past few days - but then Darlene suddenly bursts out in a fit of hysterical laughter, stepping away and throwing her head back like Dom just told her a great joke.</p><p class="p1">“What can possibly be so funny right now?”</p><p class="p1">It takes another few seconds for Darlene to calm down. When she finally does, she meets eyes with Dom; hers are, once again, shiny with unshed tears.</p><p class="p1">“I was coming to see you.”</p><p class="p1">Her tone is uncharacteristically soft, vulnerable, and it tugs at Dom’s heartstrings. It doesn’t take long for the tears to come to her eyes as well; Dom half-turns away and nervously runs a hand through her hair, clearing her throat before adding in an equally soft voice, “Good thing we ran into each other this time.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene laughs again, rolling her eyes before finally closing the gap between them by grabbing Dom’s face with her hands and pulling her in for a long overdue kiss. Dom eagerly leans in, slipping a hand around Darlene’s waist and pressing her palm into her lower back. She’s leaning so far forward that Darlene has to bend back a bit, sliding one foot slightly behind her so that they don’t topple to the floor. It hasn’t even been a week but she kisses her like she hasn’t done it in years.</p><p class="p1">They finally break apart ages later, but they remain achingly close; Darlene’s hands are still pressed against the sides of her head, her thumbs tenderly stroking her cheeks, and the ends of their noses are barely grazing against each other. “You’ve been holding out on me.”</p><p class="p1">Dom can feel her face getting warmer, but she tries to look nonchalant. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene scoffs. “So those three months in Europe don’t count?”</p><p class="p1">Dom rolls her eyes as they finally pull away; she reaches for one of Darlene’s hands and weaves their fingers together. “Always the pessimist.” She briefly glances over Darlene’s shoulder, her eyes landing on her door, and she suddenly remembers why she’s here in the first place. “Um, do you mind if we talk for a second?”</p><p class="p1">Darlene turns to see what she’s staring at, and she immediately puts two and two together; she makes her way down the hall, tugging Dom along with her. Dom takes a quick look at Elliot’s door and she immediately thinks about how she wouldn't even be here right now if it weren't for the conversation they had the other day. She’s going to have to thank him somehow; maybe she’ll take him out for lunch on Monday.</p><p class="p1">Darlene’s apartment is a bit more furnished than it was a few months ago, but it’s still relatively sparse. It only has what is needed, the bare necessities: A couch, a table, a few chairs. There aren’t any decorations or accents that give the place the sense that someone actually <em>lives</em> here; it just feels like an empty space someone occupies every once in awhile. Oddly enough, it’s very fitting for her. It’s no nonsense, it’s simple, it’s straightforward. The only ‘accessory’ she has is the moderately sized television sitting a few feet in front of the couch - mostly for keeping an eye on the news.</p><p class="p1">“Look.” Dom shuts the door behind her, her hand automatically jumping to her hair. “About what happened Monday, I shouldn’t have-”</p><p class="p1">“It’s fine, Dom.” Darlene sighs. She pulls her over to the couch and they sit down, their entwined hands resting on her lap. “Really.”</p><p class="p1">“No, it’s not.” Dom insists, giving her hand a squeeze. “I shouldn’t have just run out like that. I…freaked out. The words just sorta came out and I didn’t know how to recover from it, so I just ran. I should’ve stayed, but…” She rustles her hair again. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”</p><p class="p1">“What are you talking about?</p><p class="p1">She swallows hard as she reaches out to grab Darlene’s other hand. “So, a few years back, I was in law school-”</p><p class="p1">“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Darlene’s eyes go wide. “You went to <em>law school?”</em></p><p class="p1">“Yes,” Dom mumbles sheepishly. “But that’s not a central point to the story-”</p><p class="p1">“Damn, Dom.” Darlene laughs. “You’re an agent <em>and</em> a lawyer? That’s fu-”</p><p class="p1">“Can you stop interrupting?” She sighs. “And I’m not a lawyer; I haven’t taken the bar. I just have a law <em>degree. </em>There’s a difference. Anyways, at the time, I was…with someone. It was pretty serious, and we’ve been together for awhile - I guess you can say, at the time, I thought they were…” She cringes. “The one.”</p><p class="p1">She takes a second to gauge Darlene’s reaction, but there really isn’t one. She hasn’t broken eye contact, and her expression is pensive, like she’s drinking in every word. That <em>should </em>be a good sign, but it’s making Dom nervous anyway. “She invited me out to dinner a few days before graduation, telling me she wanted to celebrate with just the two of us before we partied with the rest of the class. Everything’s going great, and then she suddenly drops to one knee and pulls out a ring.”</p><p class="p1">There’s a twinge of…<em>something</em> that flickers across Darlene’s face for a split second, but it happens so quickly that Dom’s unable to make out what it is. It could’ve been pain, it could’ve been amusement, it could’ve been jealousy, it could’ve been fear. She remains silent, and it causes a slight spike in Dom’s anxiety, but she wills herself to continue with her story.</p><p class="p1">“I went into fight or flight mode. You can probably guess which one I ended up choosing.” She pauses, hoping the joke will elicit some sort of a reaction from Darlene, but she continues to say nothing, so she swallows hard and presses on. “Long story short, I snuck out and I never heard from her again.”</p><p class="p1">The silence that hangs between them is so heavy Dom feels like she’s suffocating in it. Darlene is staring at something she can’t see, her expression blank, and she isn’t sure what to do. Is she trying to process everything? Is she so upset at this sudden reveal that she can’t figure out what to say? Did Dom trigger something? Is she recalling a bad memory?</p><p class="p1">Darlene finally moves; she takes in a breath, slow and steady. Her expression remains worryingly hard to read.</p><p class="p1">“I need to show you something.”</p><p class="p1">She pulls Dom to her feet, and they head into her bedroom. The mattress has a frame now, and there’s an end table to the left with a lamp and an empty glass, but other than that the place is barren.</p><p class="p1">“So you decided you’re going for the minimalist look? I hear it’s all the rage these days.” Dom’s voice is dry as Darlene heads into her closet. Unlike the rest of the apartment, it's bursting with personality and colour; it’s just like Darlene to only keep the truest parts of herself confined in a small space that only she can access.</p><p class="p1">She briefly turns around to flip Dom off with both hands, then resumes rifling through her closet. She’s back a few seconds later with a small box; she opens it, revealing an impressive diamond ring, and Dom’s eyes go wide. Her instincts and past experience automatically deduces that the ring is for her, which provokes her anxiety to skyrocket at first, but then her logic quickly takes over and she begins to mull over the possibilities. This ring can’t be for her. If it was, Dom doesn’t think Darlene would’ve showed it to her immediately after telling her the story of how she dodged a past proposal. This ring must’ve been for Darlene - someone gave it to her, maybe to propose. However, if it was a proposal, and she has the ring in her possession, wouldn’t that mean she accepted said proposal? But if she said yes, why isn’t she wearing it?</p><p class="p1">“Figured it out yet?” There’s a shadow of a smirk clouding Darlene’s expression.</p><p class="p1">“Uh...” Dom continues to gape at the ring, the diamond teasingly glinting up at her, almost like it's mocking her for failing to come up with an answer.</p><p class="p1">“You’re FBI, Dom. I’m sure you can use your detective skills to solve this mystery.” Darlene sounds annoyingly smug, and Dom should be mad, but the teasing also hints that she may back to her old self again, so she lets it slide. “Fine, I’ll give you a hint: You knew him. Sort of. Not really.”</p><p class="p1">Him?</p><p class="p1">Dom furrows her brow as she forces herself to concentrate. For some reason she thinks back to the night they met, when everything went horribly wrong. She remembers the interrogation, the stains on Darlene’s jacket, the smoke drifting out from the end of her cigarette.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>We’re just two crazy, wacky Jersey girls.</em>
</p><p class="p1">And then it clicks.</p><p class="p1">“Cisco.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene twitches at the name, but she nods to confirm. Dom shakes her head. “Darlene, I-”</p><p class="p1">Her voice starts to crack. “We were hanging out, arguing over something stupid like we always do, and he just...brought it up, out of nowhere.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene finally closes the box and briefly heads back into the closet to stow it away, then moves to sit at the foot of her bed. “I don’t remember his exact words, but they were...” She laughs to herself, recalling the memory as best she can. “Super chill. It was so laidback, something like, <em>What do you think about getting married? </em>Something like that. I just remember looking at him and asking if he was being serious, and that’s when he showed me...” She gives her closet a nod. “I freaked the fuck out and bailed. I hid for a little while, took him back a few weeks later, pretended like nothing happened, blah blah blah. I strung him along for another few months, and then we go out to eat one night and he dies just a couple feet in front of me.”</p><p class="p1">So, running away from wedding proposals is another thing they happen to have in common. Not really sure if that’s a good or bad thing.</p><p class="p1">Dom moves to sit next to her. “That wasn’t your fault.”</p><p class="p1">“I couldn’t get the blood out of my jacket - but even if I could, I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep it anyway.” Darlene’s eyes are rimmed with tears. “I had to throw the fucking thing out, which was a shame because I really liked it.” She begins to wring her hands. “He stole some of my food, and we laughed about it. That was the last thing we ever did together. He took some of my bacon, and then seconds later he’s on the floor. If it weren’t for all of the blood, he could’ve been asleep. He didn't look like he was scared, or in pain. He looked...peaceful. Free, even.”</p><p class="p1">A lot of fucked up things happened in the past year, that's for sure, but Dom can't imagine what it must've been like for Darlene to watch her boyfriend get murdered, point blank, right in front of her. It's a kind of terror she wouldn't even wish on her worst enemy.</p><p class="p1">"He went to Susan's place because I fucked up and left some evidence behind." Darlene continues, her voice getting shakier and shakier. "He found someone from fsociety hiding out there, and he was hurt really bad, so he wanted to take him to the hospital." She dips her head slightly, sighing and pushing a hand through her hair. "We had to wait a little before we were allowed to see him, so we decided to go out for some food. Then..." She shrugs, laughing humourlessly. "Then, that was it. He was gone.”</p><p class="p1">Dom remembers that night very clearly - the way Darlene and Cisco’s faces tensed with panic when they spotted her approaching their table, how she barely got a sentence in when the glass shattered and her ears popped with the sound of raining gunfire, the way his blood effortlessly splattered on her face and clothes. "Darlene, don't bla-"</p><p class="p1">"The only reason why he went to Susan's house in the first place was because of me." She grits her teeth, the muscles in her jaw tightening as she feebly tries to fight the new wave of tears rimming her eyelids. "If I didn't leave that stupid fucking tape lying around, or if I actually listened to him for once and made the video digitally, he wouldn't have needed to go. He wouldn't have found that idiot, we would've never had to go to the hospital, we would've never gone out to eat.” </p><p class="p1">Dom shakes her head. “Even if the FBI didn't release that sketch, the Dark Army would've come for him regardless. They saw him as a pawn, someone they can easily dispose of when they no longer needed him.”</p><p class="p1">"And I just made it a hell of a lot easier for them to find him." Darlene wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. "Things were already terrible by then, but that night made everything ten times worse. Cisco, he...even though he fucked up immensely, he always had a way of making things better again. I could be having the worst fucking day of my life, and he’d find a way to make it bearable. He always knew just what to say, or what to do - and he wasn’t afraid to call me out, or tell me what I needed to hear. He caused a lot of problems, sure, but he tried his best to solve as many of them as he possibly could.”</p><p class="p1">There are a million things Dom wants to ask but none of them seem appropriate. A part of her wants to make a joke about how all of this information would’ve been useful if she said it earlier during the actual interrogation, but that would definitely spoil the moment.</p><p class="p1">Darlene’s head is turned towards the closet again. “I gave him a lot of shit for it, but I technically didn’t say no. I just ran, like what you did. When we got back together, he gave it to me and said to think about it. That’s why I still have it.”</p><p class="p1">“You said he was the love of your life.” Dom points out. “At the time, I thought you just said that because you were trying to get some sympathy out of me, but-”</p><p class="p1">“That’s exactly why I said it.” Darlene’s tone hardens a bit, but seconds later her shoulders shrink with another sigh and she shakes her head. “Or at least I think that’s why I did. It was a shitty night, and you were pestering me for answers, and it just...” She shrugs. “It slipped out.”</p><p class="p1">It’s a painful echo of what happened on Monday. Dom runs a hand through her hair, keeping her eyes trained on the closet door as she utters the next few words. “Did you love him?”</p><p class="p1">Darlene whips her head around to gawk at her; she looks offended at first, but then her expression quickly fades into confusion. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her hands are gripping the hem of her overalls so tightly they’re beginning to shake. “I...” She turns, facing forward, her bottom lip trembling and her eyes distant. “I honestly don’t fucking know. I thought about it a few times, but it never felt right, so maybe that means I didn’t. I think what I felt for him, especially towards the end, was mostly regret.”</p><p class="p1">“Regret for what?”</p><p class="p1">“For not being a better girlfriend? I don’t know, it’s kind of all over the place. What we had…it was complicated. We did some pretty fucked up things to each other, and the whole thing with fsociety and the Dark Army made it a million times worse. I caught him sending the Dark Army a photo of me while I was asleep once.” She visibly shudders. “Makes me wonder how many times he’s done that in the past without me knowing.”</p><p class="p1">Dom blinks, unsure if she imagined what she just heard. “Wait, what?”</p><p class="p1">“It’s whatever.” She casually shrugs, and Dom wants to yell about how it <em>isn’t</em> just whatever, but she wisely keeps her mouth shut. “I grabbed a bat and smashed his head in to let him know that I wasn’t a fan of that.”</p><p class="p1">There’s a lot to unpack here, and Dom isn’t sure where to start. “But you still continued to see each other?”</p><p class="p1">Darlene lets out a dark chuckle. “Yup. No need to tell me I’m an idiot for doing it, because I already know I am.”</p><p class="p1">“I…” She frowns. “Well, like you said, it was complicated. You were also more than just romantically involved; you were working together too.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s also because I just had nowhere else to go.” Darlene admits, looking away. “Or maybe it’s because I have a propensity for gravitating towards things that aren’t necessarily good for me. Blame it on my childhood, I guess. That’s what Ben does.”</p><p class="p1">All Dom knows about Darlene’s upbringing is that the Alderson household wasn’t a very loving one, and that her and Elliot suffered a lot at the hands of both parents. Darlene never really goes into much detail about the extent of the abuse, only that she ran away from home a lot, and when she was home she often fantasized about being somewhere else. Dom knows that it’s something she can’t really ask about, and that she’ll have to wait until Darlene is comfortable enough to talk about it, but she can’t help but think about it sometimes. What did Darlene have to endure in order to become the hardened cynic she is today? And if or when Dom does find out, would she be able to handle it?</p><p class="p1">“But yeah, like I said…it was complicated, but I probably could’ve been better to him.” Darlene’s eyes flutter to a close for a second, but they reopen a split second later. “He tried his best to make me happy, and I just kept brushing him off. Budapest and the proposal barely scratch the surface.” She runs the back of her hand across her eyes, sniffling. “None of that matters now, anyway. He’s fucking dead. There’s nothing I can do or say that’ll change that.”</p><p class="p1">“But that doesn’t mean that what you’re feeling is wrong, or that it isn’t a big deal.” Dom insists. “Look, you cared for him, and you made some mistakes-”</p><p class="p1">“A <em>lot </em>of mistakes.”</p><p class="p1">“Right, but I think that the regret you’re showing now is a testament to how you feel. I don’t think you’d be this torn up if you didn’t love him to some capacity.” Dom hesitantly reaches out, placing one hand over one of Darlene’s. “You shouldn’t be afraid to admit that.”</p><p class="p1">“I have every reason to be afraid.” Darlene hisses, pulling away from Dom’s gasp and abruptly rising to her feet. Her eyes are glassy again, and even though her tone is harsh there’s an unmistakable shimmer to her words. “Everyone I ever cared about has been hurt or killed because of me. I fuck up, and someone else pays for it. It’s the same old fucking story.”</p><p class="p1">Dom slowly rises to her feet but she doesn’t take a step closer. “Darlene...”</p><p class="p1">Darlene starts to rub her forearm - an early sign of anxiety. “This is going to sound really messed up, but when you...said what you said on Monday, the first thing that popped into my head for some reason was that night at Angela’s.”</p><p class="p1">It takes awhile, but Dom eventually figures out which night she’s referring to. “The night when Janice...?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m not even talking about what happened with Janice. I’m talking about the shit that happened before.” Darlene stops rubbing; she grips her arm so tight her nails start to dig into her skin. “When you gave me your gun and practically begged me to kill you.”</p><p class="p1">They never really talked about what happened that night. Honestly, Dom hoped they wouldn’t have to, but she was only kidding herself. It was a pivotal point in their relationship, even if it was really messed up. It was a low - actually, maybe <em>the</em> lowest point Dom has ever sunken to, and out of all the people to drag her in <em>and </em>out of it, it was Darlene.</p><p class="p1">“You said that you’ve been thinking about doing it to yourself for two months.” Darlene lowers her head. “All I could think about in that moment was how I was the reason behind all of that, that the reason why you’ve been thinking about it was because of all of the things I’ve done to you. The fact that I hurt you so much, to the point where it got you thinking about fucking killing yourself…I don’t know. I couldn’t handle it. It fucking broke me.”</p><p class="p1">Dom finally steps forward and pries Darlene’s hand away from her arm. “That was a long time ago. Things are different now. We talked about this.”</p><p class="p1">“But it still happened.” Darlene shakes her hand away and wraps her arms around herself. She looks so small. “You wouldn’t have felt that way if I didn’t drag you into that mess with the Dark Army.”</p><p class="p1">“I think I would’ve been dragged into it no matter what.” Dom sighs. “Irving said it himself: The Dark Army got bored of Santiago and wanted a replacement. I ended up being the best candidate.”</p><p class="p1">“But maybe you wouldn’t have needed to take his place if I didn’t try to steal your stupid badge.” Darlene turns towards the closet again. “When Janice stuck that goddamn knife in you...” She sniffles, quickly wiping at her eyes before hugging herself again. “Fuck, Dom. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my entire life.” More tears spring to her eyes and she furiously swipes at them. “I really thought I was going to lose you.”</p><p class="p1">Dom’s chest starts to ache. She wants to reach out again, to pull her in and just keep her there for the rest of the night, but it’s probably safer to keep her distance for now. “But you didn’t.” She vaguely gestures to herself, throwing on a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m still here, unfortunately.”</p><p class="p1">For a second it looks like Darlene is about to laugh, but she swallows it and shakes her head. “When you left that morning, that’s what I thought about - and then it got me thinking about Cisco, and that’s...” She trails off, unsure how to continue.</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">Darlene lifts her head to make eye contact; her unshed tears are accentuating the blue in her eyes. “That’s when I realized that the fear I felt when Janice hurt you was way worse than the fear I felt on the night Cisco died. I was...more afraid to lose you than I was when I realized he was gone. I didn’t know what that meant.”</p><p class="p1">Dom can hear her pulse pounding in her ears. She waits a beat before finally replying in a shaky voice, “Do you know what it means now?”</p><p class="p1">The nod Darlene gives her is so subtle that she thought she imagined it at first. “Yeah.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I do.”</p><p class="p1">Normally, Dom would nervously laugh this off and make some kind of dumb joke in a pathetic attempt to change the subject. A girl she’s sort of dating just sort of confessed that she sort of loves her back - that alone should trigger that fight or flight response she mentioned earlier.</p><p class="p1">But, for some reason, she isn’t itching to run and hide like she always does. In fact, she feels compelled to stay here, to continue talking, to find the right words to say so Darlene knows exactly how she feels.</p><p class="p1">Dom steps forward, gingerly untangling Darlene’s arms from herself so she can squeeze her hands. She wants nothing more than to tell her that the feeling’s mutual and that it has been for a lot longer than she wants to admit, but Darlene looks like she has more to say, so she holds her tongue for now.</p><p class="p1">“You walked into my life minutes before he was ripped out of it.” Darlene’s voice begins to waver as the tears roll down her cheeks. “Isn’t that weird?”</p><p class="p1">“A little, but that’s okay. You were a part of my life way before you even knew I existed.” Dom lets go of Darlene’s hands so she can wipe the tears away. “And let’s be honest - I don’t think there’s anything about us that <em>isn’t</em> weird.”</p><p class="p1">“Understatement of the fucking century.” Darlene lets out a small, sarcastic laugh. “The most fucked up part about it, though, is that I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She shakes her head, more tears squeezing out from the corners of her eyes. “If losing him was the only way I could get to you, I would do it again with no hesitation, and I fucking hate myself for feeling that way. Cisco was a dumbass, but he deserved better from me - he <em>deserves </em>better.”</p><p class="p1">Dom’s breath catches in her throat for a second as her emotions threaten to overtake her. As messed up as that confession was, there’s something morbidly romantic about it. “I’m sure he knew how you felt. He stuck around even though you went through some rough patches, right? That has to mean something.”</p><p class="p1">“He shouldn’t have, though.” Darlene sniffles. “And neither should you. I ruined your life. I put your entire family in danger and I even made you want to off yourself at one point, but you still...” She peters off, shaking her head. “You shouldn't be...<em>feeling</em> the way you do, for me. No one should.“ </p><p class="p1">The ache in Dom’s chest returns with a vengeance. It hurts to see so much self-hatred brewing inside such a small person. “Darlene, you don’t have much of a say in how I feel about you, and I think you already know that.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but-”</p><p class="p1">“I get why you feel the way you do, but let’s not forget that I have my own feelings too.” Dom tenderly tucks a strand of brown hair behind Darlene’s ear. “We’ve already gone through this more than once - yes, you did a lot of hurtful things, and maybe I shouldn’t forgive you for some of them...but the thing is, these past few months, I’ve seen a lot of change in you. I know you’re still struggling with some stuff but you’re doing the best you can to get through them, and...” She can feel her face heating up, but she powers through her embarrassment because she needs to say this and Darlene needs to hear it. “It kinda makes me want to be around you more.”</p><p class="p1">She clears her throat to indicate that she’s not done yet. “You’re not the person you used to be. The remorse you’re showing is indicative of that.” She plants a kiss to the top of Darlene’s head; her lips linger in her hair for a few seconds as she mentally prepares herself. When she’s ready, she pulls back so she can stare directly into Darlene’s eyes.</p><p class="p1">“The point I was trying to make earlier with my own botched proposal story was that l also have issues with commitment. I used to kid myself and just say that maybe I wasn’t the dating type, but that’s not true. The fact of the matter is…well, I’m scared. The second I find out someone wants to get closer to me, I panic, and my first instinct is to get away. I’ve felt that way towards everyone I’ve ever been with...except for you. You’ve been a goddamn pain in the ass since the day I first met you, but I also don’t want to be anywhere without you either.” She sucks in another breath, swallowing hard. “I…I love you. I love you, Darlene.”</p><p class="p1">The ice in Darlene’s eyes finally starts to melt, but for some reason it’s making Dom speak faster and faster. Her sentences are starting to mash together, and her points are becoming less clear. “I meant it when I said it on Monday, even though I tried to make it look like it was an accident. Well, okay, it was. It kinda just slipped out. I wasn’t really thinking when it happened. It just…it just happened. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it. I mean it, I really do. I mean it a lot.” She scrunches her brow, confused at her own words. “Wait - <em>I mean it a lot? </em>That doesn’t even make any sense. What I’m trying to say is that I like you a lot - I mean, I love you a lot, but I like you too. A lot. But I also love you too. A lot.” She smacks the heel of her palm against her forehead. “Jesus H., I don’t even know what I’m saying anym-”</p><p class="p1">Darlene unexpectedly grabs the front of Dom’s shirt and yanks her down for a kiss. Dom’s eyes are wide at first; she’s caught off guard and can’t quite compute, but she gradually settles into it, allowing her eyes to close and her hands to rest on Darlene’s hips. She can feel one of Darlene’s hands on her shoulders; the other one is cupped against her cheek. The kiss ends sooner than Dom would’ve liked, but she gets why. Their conversation isn’t over yet.</p><p class="p1">Darlene’s eyes are still forlorn, but they’re no longer glazed over with tears. “I just don’t want to disappoint you...again. You’ve given me more than enough second chances.”</p><p class="p1">“And I trust that you’ll keep your word this time. You have so far.” Dom points out with a smile, pulling Darlene in for another embrace. “You need to give yourself more credit. You’re not this horrible, unlovable monster - at least not anymore.”</p><p class="p1">“You really need to stop being so nice to me.” Darlene mumbles into her shoulder.</p><p class="p1">“Well, I hate to break it to you, but we can’t always get what we want.” Dom chuckles. “You’re stuck with me. Sorry.” She runs a hand through Darlene's dark hair, parting some of the strands near her hairline and gently pulling her fingers against her scalp. She begins to rub the skin in slow circles, paying close attention to the way her skull feels against the pads of her fingers.</p><p class="p1">"What are you doing?" Darlene's brow tenses with confusion at first, but it doesn't take long for her to relax under Dom's touch; she closes her eyes at the sensation and leans into her palm.</p><p class="p1">"You didn't get a scar, did you?" Dom murmurs, moving her hand from Darlene's hairline to the side of her head, just a couple inches above her ear. So far so good.</p><p class="p1">Darlene looks like she's trying not to laugh. "From what?" She slowly opens one eye, then opens the other as she reaches up to grab Dom's hand. "As much as I love the free massage, you're starting to freak me out."</p><p class="p1">Dom's voice is soft as she continues to feel around Darlene's head. "I hit you pretty hard, didn't I? You were knocked out for awhile."</p><p class="p1">Darlene's eyes widen just a little when she realizes what Dom's talking about. “You kind of shoved me into a bathtub and whipped me in the head with your gun. I'm pretty sure I got a concussion that night."</p><p class="p1">Dom slowly closes her eyes. “Please tell me you went to a hospital.”</p><p class="p1">“You wanted me to find Elliot, remember? So that’s what I did.” Darlene rolls her eyes so hard Dom can practically hear them. “Then that whole thing with the Deus Group went down, and you know the rest. There wasn’t any time for a stupid checkup.”</p><p class="p1">Dom sighs, but on the inside she’s actually kind of impressed. If Darlene really did have a concussion that night, it would’ve been really hard to tell. Doxxing and stealing from the top one percent of the one percent <em>with</em> a head injury must not have been easy. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with you.“ Dom slides her fingers towards the top and slightly back, frowning when she comes across a small dip in the bone. "What's this?"</p><p class="p1">Darlene untangles her hand from Dom's to touch the spot she's referring to. "Oh, that's old. It wasn't you, don't worry."</p><p class="p1">Dom quirks an eyebrow. "How old?"</p><p class="p1">"It's been there pretty much all my life; it's no big deal." Darlene shrugs. </p><p class="p1">That's not the answer Dom wanted to hear. "How the hell is it not a big deal? There's a <em>dent</em> in your skull, Darlene!"</p><p class="p1">“Dude, everyone has a weirdly shaped head. Calm down.” Darlene laughs dismissively, and it only irritates Dom even more.</p><p class="p1">“Where did this come from?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, since you <em>really</em> have to know - Elliot dropped me." Darlene shrugs again. "Like I said, no big deal."</p><p class="p1">Dom pulls back, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. "What?"</p><p class="p1">“It wasn’t on purpose, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Darlene returns to her seat at the foot of her bed, shrugging a third time. "I was crying or some shit, and as usual our parents were nowhere to be found, so Elliot tried soothing me himself.” She chuckles; her casual approach to the subject is getting on Dom's nerves. “Now, I don’t know if you know this, but it turns out that a four year old has no fucking idea how to carry a baby, so when he tried picking me up he just..." She holds out her arms, pretending to drop something. "And down came baby, cradle and all." When she glances at Dom's dumbstruck face, she laughs. “What? You've never been dropped on the head as a kid? You have <em>two </em>brothers - it must’ve happened.”</p><p class="p1">“No!” Dom exclaims, shaking her head incredulously. “You could've <em>died,</em> Darlene! You could've had a serious, <em>permanent</em> brain injury!”</p><p class="p1">“But I clearly didn’t.” Darlene smirks. “I didn't even find out until I was thirteen. I wanted to dye my hair purple, but my mom stole the dye I bought and threw it out. So I decided that if she wasn't gonna let me dye my hair, I was just gonna shave it all off.”</p><p class="p1">Dom's eyes somehow get even wider. “Did you?”</p><p class="p1">“Almost.” Darlene grins. “I asked Elliot to help me, so we looked around the house for our dad’s old shit and found his razor. We had it plugged in and ready to go, but we didn’t know where to start.” Her hand moves to the back of her head, rubbing the spot with her index and middle fingers. “He reaches around here, I guess because he was trying to figure out which part to shave first, and that's when he finds it.” She pauses to laugh. “You should've seen his fucking face. I asked why he was freaking out, and that's when he told me. We laughed about it so much that we totally forgot about the head shaving thing.”</p><p class="p1">Dom sits next to her, still shaking her head. “I shouldn't even be surprised.”</p><p class="p1">“You really shouldn’t.” Darlene laughs again, but it dies quickly. “I don't think he remembers any of it now, but...it's one of my fonder childhood memories. I don’t have a whole lot of those.”</p><p class="p1">Dom tries to picture a miniature Elliot struggling to soothe his baby sister, and then a teenage Elliot accidentally rediscovering the dent on her head with a buzzing razor in his hand. The whole dropping thing aside, it is kind of heartwarming. “He's been there for you since the beginning, huh?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah.” Darlene nods, her fingers still pressed against the spot on the back of her head. “It was actually his idea to talk to you about what happened.”</p><p class="p1">“What?” Dom's tone is incredulous. “He told <em>me</em> to talk to <em>you.”</em></p><p class="p1">A semi-awkward silence hovers over them. Dom should've expected this - Elliot <em>is</em> Darlene's brother after all; there's no reason why he wouldn't talk to her, and it's not like this is the first time they've had an argument and separately complained to Elliot about it. It's just that this is the first time he actually <em>did</em> something about it, instead of just passively listening.</p><p class="p1">“That crafty fuck.” Darlene finally speaks up seconds later, shaking her head.</p><p class="p1">Dom laughs. “I guess he felt like he needed to intervene this time.” She curls an arm around Darlene, pulling her closer and kissing the spot where Elliot dropped her so many years ago. “I’m glad he did.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene makes a noise that sounds like something between a groan and an annoyed growl, but she leans into Dom's side, tucking her head under her chin and throwing her arms around her waist. After a few moments of silence, she begrudgingly speaks up again, her voice partially muffled against Dom's shirt. “I love you too, you know. In case I didn't make that clear.”</p><p class="p1">There's a fluttering in Dom's chest, but she plays it cool and cocks her head. “What was that?”</p><p class="p1">She shifts her head slightly so her mouth isn't pressed against Dom's shirt like it was before. “I love you, okay?”</p><p class="p1">Dom leans in a little closer, biting her bottom lip so she doesn't laugh and give herself away. “You're gonna have to speak up, hon.”</p><p class="p1">Darlene presses her hands into Dom's side and shoves her away. “Alright, it was cute the first time.” When Dom flops back against the mattress, doubled over with laughter, Darlene rolls her eyes. “You know what? I take that back - I actually fucking hate you.”</p><p class="p1">Dom reaches out to place her hands on Darlene’s hips, tugging until she relents and crawls on top of her. Her brown hair tumbles forward, tickling Dom's cheeks as she raises up to tuck a few strands behind Darlene's ear. “You can't expect me to believe that.”</p><p class="p1">The smirk stretched across Darlene's lips is irritatingly mischievous. “What can I do to convince you?”</p><p class="p1">A soft laugh escapes Dom's mouth as she slowly raises her head a few inches off the mattress, teasingly brushing her lips against hers. She feels Darlene shiver in her grasp, and she grins.</p><p class="p1">“Surprise me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p>
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